And Gunpowder
by peanutbutterer
Summary: A collection of unrelated drabbles based on prompts. Mostly K/D. Chapter 17: Officer Deeks pt 2
1. Cronut

for pracarual, who requested: "cronut"

* * *

Deeks' arm around her tightens. "Don't even think about it."

Kensi freezes. She'd been trying to move slowly so he wouldn't wake up - partially because he needed sleep; partially because she thought it prudent not to be quite so intertwined when he woke. "Hmm?"

"You are not eating that cronut."

Okay, that was another part. "How'd you know?"

"I'm a detective."

She snorts.

"Your stomach's been growling for the last five minutes and Yummy Yummy does not keep well overnight. Also, you love donuts."

"I need to work on being harder to read."

"Then I'll just work on reading you better."

Her heart flutters a little. Damn heart. She twists her head so she can see his face. His eyes are still closed and he looks pretty close to peaceful. "You going to let me up?"

"It's not something I was planning on doing, no."

She drops her head back down onto his chest. "I'm hungry."

"But you're comfy."

"I'm comfy," she agrees, burrowing closer.

The cronut will still be there in ten minutes.

Deeks presses his cheek against the top of her head and holds her even closer.

It'll be there in an hour, too.


	2. Pre 5x02

Written after seeing the 5x02 bullpen scene as a sneak peek. Set pre-5x02.

* * *

Kensi's on her back in her bed, staring unseeing at the ceiling when her phone vibrates on the nightstand beside her. Her chest immediately tightens and her pulse picks up.

She closes her eyes, counts backwards from ten and breathes deeply. The phone vibrates again, reminding her that she hasn't looked at the screen.

It's not him, she tells herself. She takes another breath. It's never him. There's no reason to get worked up.

(But she gets worked up anyway, of course - every damn time.)

She reminds herself that she's a highly trained, extremely deadly federal agent and reaches for the phone.

_Had a gr8 time_, reads the text. _Drinks again 2nite?_

It takes a herculean effort not to hurl her phone across the room. Instead, she holds down the button, powering it off completely. It's not like it's caused her anything but pain in the last four months, anyway.

She drops the phone on the bed and sits on the edge, hands gripping the mattress. It's quarter to nine. She has exactly forty-five minutes to shake this off, slap on a smile and go undercover as herself, yet again.

She's had harder missions, she's sure.

Just none that come to mind.


	3. Flowers

For anon, who requested Kensi receiving flowers.

* * *

"So."

"So."

Deeks perches on the edge of Kensi's desk and nods to the assortment of flowers beside him. "Those are pretty."

Kensi smiles, tucking the card into her drawer. "Yeah, they are."

"That's very thoughtful of… Kevin."

She frowns. "Kevin?"

"Nick."

"Who's Nick?"

"Howie?"

Kensi folds her arms across her chest and looks at him pointedly.

Deeks just shrugs. "I can't remember the name of the guy you're seeing."

"So you thought you'd run through the Backstreet Boys?"

"Those are Backstreet Boys?"

She raises an eyebrow.

He waves her off. "I always get them confused with 'N Sync."

"And why exactly do you think I'm dating a member of a boy band?"

"Because of your horrible taste in music, of course."

"I have horrible taste in something, that's for sure." Kensi stands, scowl firmly set, and says to the room at large, "I'm going to the range. Back in a few."

When she's gone, Callen shakes his head but doesn't look up from his paperwork. "You really have a way with women, Deeks."

"A way of pissing them off," Sam says, tossing a completed report onto a pile of folders. "You should spend less time talking around Kensi. You know she's armed."

"Not when she's in the bullpen."

Callen snorts. "You think she needs to have a gun to do damage to you? I thought you were smarter than that."

Deeks slides off Kensi's desk and walks over to his own. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"Take 'em where you can get 'em," Sam agrees. "That's a good policy. You never know when or if you'll get a real one."

"So," Deeks says, not at all as casually as he intends, "those flowers are pretty."

Sam taps his pen on his chin. "Now where have I heard that before… oh yeah." He points to Deeks. "You. Like two minutes ago."

"Kind of focused on the flowers, aren't you, Deeks?" Callen asks.

"They brighten up the room nicely. I'm thinking of getting some for myself." He shuffles some paperwork around on his desk. "Do you happen to know where they came from?"

"Probably a florist."

"Right, yeah. A florist. Someone picked them out though. Someone with great taste, obviously." He clears his throat. "Do you happen to know who that would be?"

Callen pretends to think about it. "Probably that guy that she's been seeing."

"Right, that guy." Deeks scratches the back of his neck. "What guy was that again?"

"You remember," Callen says to Sam, "she was talking about that guy just yesterday."

Sam just shakes his head and does his best to hide his smile.

Callen turns to Deeks. "She hasn't mentioned him to you? Seemed pretty taken with him."

"Huh. Yeah, right. Of course. That guy. I forgot about that guy."

"Of course."

Deeks tosses the papers he's been playing with onto his desk and points toward the exit. "I'm going to hit the gym. Work off some of this uh, this boredom."

Sam watches him leave. "That's cold, G. That's cold."

"What?" Callen asks with the most innocence he can muster.

"You going to tell him those flowers are from her mom?"

"That's not my place, Sam. I'm not going to discuss a fellow agent's personal life." He tries to look scandalized.

"But you will make up a fictitious boyfriend and a fictitious conversation about said boyfriend."

"I'm practicing the art of deception. I'm an undercover agent, Sam." He presses his hand to his chest. "I have to hone my craft."

"Mmm hmm."

Callen's eyes light up. "Remember Nell talking about the great date she had last night?"

"No, I don't."

"Huh. Must have imagined it. Oh, well," he tosses down his pen and pushes away from his desk. "I'm going to go tell Eric about it. Brush up on my improvisational skills."

"You know what you should really brush up on?" Sam asks, halting his partner before he makes his way out of the bullpen. "Defensive tactics. Make sure to focus on protecting yourself below the belt."

Callen grins and turns to climb the stairs to ops. "Good advice, big guy. Good advice."


	4. Breakfast in bed

For lightedwindows, who asked: "Kensi makes breakfast in bed!"

* * *

Deeks tries to smile.

"You like it?"

He nods, still smiling. "Mmm hmm."

"It's good?"

He nods again.

Kensi raises an eyebrow. "Does that mean you're going to swallow it?"

"I'm trying," he manages around a mouthful of food. "It's like my gag reflex won't let me."

Kensi laughs, a full throaty laugh that warms him right to his toes. She grabs the napkin from the tray on his lap, opens it and holds it in front of his mouth.

He tries to telegraph an apology with his eyes as he spits the - whatever it was - into the napkin before reaching for the glass of orange juice.

She wads up the napkin and scrunches her nose. "I was pretty sure I put two tablespoons of pepper in instead of teaspoons, but at that point I was so far into the recipe I didn't have the heart to turn back."

Deeks finishes the glass of orange juice and leans in, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "It's the thought that counts."

She smiles and runs her fingers through his hair, bringing them to rest along his jaw. "Donuts?"

He kisses her lips. "Perfect."

"Good thing you only love me for my mind," she says, lifting the tray and setting it on the bedside table.

He tugs off the comforter and slips out of bed. "Don't be silly. I love you for your body."

"Well, we can agree it's not for my cooking skills."

"Yes, sugarbear," he says, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close, "we can most certainly agree on that."


	5. Halloween

For Guest, who asked for something Halloween related.

* * *

Kensi sighs and brushes the wrappers off her lap and onto the floor. She pushes off the couch and makes her way to the door, grabbing the big bowl of chocolates as she goes. She's down to about a dozen fun-sized candy bars, which means it's probably time to turn out the porch light. If she maintains her "give one, eat one" rule then she can only feed about six more kids.

She adjusts her tiara, plasters on a smile, and swings open the door.

"Trick or treat!"

Her partner stands on her doorstep, hands tucked into the pockets of his grey hoodie, smirk firmly in place.

"I have a no-costume, no-treat rule, you know."

"Really?"

"Luckily, you came as a homeless man."

He makes a face.

She tosses him a Snickers.

"You going to let me in?"

She pretends to think about it.

"You better decide quick, 'cause I just passed some zombies, two Captain Americas, and a pair of witches who all looked really hungry. You wouldn't want them to deplete your stash."

She sort of hates that he knows her so well. "Hurry up."

He follows her inside, flipping off the exterior light and closing the door behind him. He toes off his shoes before planting himself in the center of her couch.

She grabs a Butterfinger and sets the bowl on the coffee table. "I figured you'd be out at some trashy bar picking up fake nurses."

He scoffs. "You know very well I prefer real nurses."

"Beggars can't be choosers."

"So mean."

She smiles brightly.

"How about you? No masquerade ball?"

She shrugs. "Nah. I figured I'd support local dentistry instead."

"Ever the philanthropist." He nudges her with his shoulder. "You doing okay?"

She shakes her head once, telling him to drop it. "I told you already, Deeks. It's just a scratch."

"I didn't mean physically, Kens."

"I'm fine."

"Fine?"

"Great. I'm fantastic. Super, even." She looks at him pleadingly. "Can we get on with our lives?"

"Can I just state for the record that I don't believe you?"

"Yes, councillor." She rolls her eyes. "The record shall so reflect."

"Okay." He points to the television. "_Creepshow 3_ started ten minutes ago."

"Oh, god. There are three of them?"

He wiggles his eyebrows. "I hear it's the worst horror film ever made."

She reaches for the remote. "Sold."

Deeks leans forward and grabs the bowl as she flips through the channels. "Snickers or Milky Way?"

"Snickers."

He tosses her the candy and opens the other for himself.

"That's all you get," she says as she leans back into the couch. "The rest are mine."

He laughs and settles in beside her. "Yes, princess."

"Get it?" he asks when she doesn't laugh. "Princess. 'Cause you're wearing a tiara."

"Yes, Deeks, I got it."

"You sure? 'Cause that should have at least drawn a smile."

"I'm sure."

"You want me to try it again, now that you're prepared?"

"Please, no."

"I feel like I earned some sort of positive affirmation."

She does her fakest, most obnoxious laugh.

He smiles. "Now was that so hard?"

"Just watch the damn show."

"Yes, your majesty."

This time when she laughs, it's for real.

She's not fine, she knows it. But she can safely say that right at this moment she's feeling a whole lot better.


	6. Waking up

For anon, who asked: "Deeks & Kensi wake up together."

* * *

"This is not my bed."

"And here I thought I was the detective."

Kensi closes her eyes and drops her head back on the pillow. "Oh, good. I was worried that wit of yours wouldn't be as sharp in the mornings."

"Speaking of sharp, move over a little." He pokes her in the side with his finger. "Your hips are like razor blades."

"You move over. I'm not leaving the warm spot. It's like 40 degrees out there."

"If I move over I'm going to be on the floor."

Kensi smiles.

"The bed would be considerably colder without my body heat."

"But then I would be able to stretch out." She spreads her arms to the sides. One hangs off the edge and the other lays across his bare chest. "What is this - a double? Do you have a set of Scooby-Doo sheets to go on it?"

Deeks wiggles a little, his side wedged partially beneath her. "You can stretch out with me here."

She brings her arm in and twists so that her chest is pressed against him. "I thought you wanted my body away from yours."

He scrunches his nose. "I was fibbing."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmm hmm. In fact, I think I want you even closer."

She traces his side with her fingers. "How close, exactly?"

He threads a hand through her hair and leans in. "Extremely."

"I think," she says as she closes the distance between their lips, "that can be arranged."


	7. Magical realism

For irony-rocks, who requested: "magical realism"

* * *

"Oh man," Deeks panted as he pressed himself more firmly against the crate. The wooden, flammable crate. "Kensi is going to kill us."

"Us?" Callen shook his head, lowering himself down beside Deeks. "Uh uh. She is going to kill you."

"Me?"

"You're the one that pissed off the dragon. Plus?" Callen waved his hand in Deeks' general direction. "Hydro-mage. You should have doused it long before it reached the SRX."

"Ever heard of fighting fire with fire? You could toss some flames in his direction and keep the heat off us a little, you know."

"And risk scorching her car more? Fat chance of that. I'm keeping my pyrotechnics out of this particular encounter."

Deeks stuck his head out for a second, only to wrench it back in as another blast of firey breath bore down on them. "I find it hard to believe that me pelting him with water will do us any favors."

"So, we're agreed then."

"Looks like it. But you're going to have to ask her. I'm thinking she's going to refuse any requests that come from me."

"You made her port you from a bad date again, didn't you?"

"Hey, don't judge me. If you'd spent the evening with that witch, you would have wanted to vanish too."

Callen sighed. "You owe me a case of beers for this."

"Deal."

Callen pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial. "Hey, Eric. Is Nell there?"


	8. Truth or dare

For anon, who requested: "truth or dare"

* * *

"Truth or dare? Are you serious?"

"I'm bored."

"And a fifteen-year-old girl?"

Deeks rolls his eyes. "Fine. If you want me to find another way to entertain myself, I can." He clears his throat dramatically.

Before a single note can come out of his mouth, Kensi's hand is covering it.

"Don't even think about singing," she says before dropping her fingers from his lips. "We'll play your stupid game."

Deeks grins and rubs his hands together. "Super! Truth or dare?"

Kensi huffs to ensure he knows she's doing this under protest. "Dare."

"Of course. Why did I even bother asking the question?"

"Because you're an idiot."

"You know," he says, dropping his head back on the headrest, "the first few hours of this op weren't so bad, but round about hour five in this candy-drawer you call a car, your personality took a turn for the worse."

Kensi bristles. "Are you saying you don't find my company enjoyable?"

"I'm saying I think Sam would have gone for truth."

"Sam would have duct-taped you to the dash."

Deeks tilts his head thoughtfully. "Also a distinct possibility."


	9. Zombie apocalypse

For Kimbercullen, who requested: "zombie apocalypse."

* * *

"I think Sam's better suited for this job."

Sam raises his eyebrows in silent challenge - daring Deeks to continue.

"You know, because you're -" he waves his hands in Sam's general direction, "bigger."

"Excuse me?"

"You'd be much more of an attractor."

Callen doesn't even bother smothering his laugh. "I think he's saying he's attracted to you, big guy."

"No, not like - you're just meatier."

"He wants to sink his teeth into you."

"I mean," Deeks continues over Callen's continued amusement, "you offer them up a big heaping pile of Sam or a little plate of scrawny me and it wouldn't even be a choice, really."

"If I'd had the choice..." Kensi says with a smirk.

Deeks glares.

"You don't think I'd have snagged Sam instead if he was single? He _is_ meatier."

"That's not funny."

Kensi shakes her head with a laugh. "What's funny is that you think continuing to talk is helping your case."

Deeks lifts his hands in a helpless gesture. "I'm right though, right? I mean, we should make Sam be the bait, it's just logic."

"Logic," Sam says between gritted teeth, "would be for me to chop you up and toss your parts in different directions. That'd really get them off our trail."

Deeks frowns.

Callen slaps his thighs and stands. "So, then, it looks like it's up to you. You can be bait as whole Deeks or piecemeal Deeks."

He sighs and stands as well. "I'm starting to feel like my vote doesn't carry much weight in this particular democracy."

Callen pats him on the back and gestures toward the door. "Tell it to the zombies."


	10. Midnight bottle

For duskbutterfly, who requested: "midnight bottle."

* * *

"Seriously?"

"Hmm?"

"You're just going to sit there?"

"Is there somewhere else I should sit?"

Sam shakes his head. "Some partner you are."

"We had a deal. You get the two to four shift. It is," Callen checks his watch, "nine after three. That's not even a grey area."

"But you're up!"

Callen just shrugs. "Not my shift."

Sam grumbles all the way to the refrigerator. He blinks at the florescent light for a minute before his pupils adjust and he can find what he's looking for. "You could at least pick her up while I heat the milk."

"I'm sorry, did the time change?"

"You're heartless." Sam drops the bottle in the warmer and clicks it on.

Callen gestures to the book in his hands. "I'm in the middle of my studies."

"And you can't take a thirty-second break to ease the suffering of a helpless infant?"

"I'm in the let-cry camp."

"Remind me never to sign on to one of your dumbass plans again." Sam makes his way across the house and into Callen's - he supposes it's a guest room; hard to tell without any furniture - and retrieves the baby girl from her portable crib. Her little hands are clenched in angry fists and her cheeks are red, tears spilling from her eyes.

Sam coos as he holds her to his chest, informing her that Uncle Callen is the least cool of all her uncles and he'll probably give really shitty birthday gifts.

"Not true," Callen says, not looking up from his book as Sam returns to the kitchen. "I'll give her money. Everyone loves money."

"Yeah, I hear that's on all the little girls' wishlists. Somewhere between pony and ninja sword."

"It is if they plan on having financial stability in the future."

Sam snorts. He grabs the bottle and rests his hips against the counter, the baby's sobs quieting into sniffles the instant the milk reaches her lips.

He watches her eat for a while before looking up at Callen. "I hope Kensi and Deeks are getting enough rest tonight, because I don't plan on doing this again."

Callen smirks, nose still in his book.

Sam knows that smirk. "That's what we signed on for," he reminds him. "So they could rest."

"Sure."

"They're sleep-deprived."

"Sleep, yes. Other things too."

Sam covers one of her ears and presses the other to his chest before whispering, "I did not sign on to watch this kid so her parents could get freaky."

"Don't worry. It's Deeks. It's probably pretty vanilla."

"This is a nightmare. I'm not actually awake. That's got to be it."

"Don't be so squeamish. You're holding the physical manifestation of their sex life."

"I'm dreaming. I'm in bed. I'm warm and comfortable and this conversation never happened." He adjusts his hold on the baby. "Come on, little one. Let's leave Uncle Uncool to his farsi."

"Uncle Uncool is actually a cool nickname."

"It's all a dream. All a dream."

"See? That's why I'll be her favorite," Callen calls after Sam as he heads toward the crib. "You feed her lies and I will always tell her the truth!"

Sam ignores him and whispers to the baby. "Everyone's asleep right now. Especially your parents. _Definitely_ your parents."


	11. Neon purple

For lightedwindows, who requested: "neon purple"

* * *

Kensi flicks open the curtains and steps out of the dressing room.

"Wow. So, Hetty's been tippling again, yeah? We should lock up the scotch before she does any damage." Deeks waves his hand in her direction before amending, "Any more damage, anyway."

"Why are you always here?" Kensi asks, tugging at the hem of her shirt and stepping up to the mirror. "Don't you ever have work to do?"

"Is that neon purple? It is, right?"

She meets his eyes in the mirror and gives him her most withering glare.

Deeks is completely unfazed. "Oh my god. Is it Hypercolor?"

"Hyper-what?"

He steps up behind her and reaches for her top. "Can I touch it?"

Kensi swats his hand away. "You most certainly cannot."

"Are you going to put your hair in a side-ponytail?"

"I'm going to put my fist in your face."

He scrunches up his nose. "Just when I think you're improving with the repartee, you go and say something like that."

Kensi sighs and tugs at her shirt again. "I hate you."

"You hate your outfit."

"That too."

He steps up beside her. "Come on, let's get you a Twinkie."

"I ate the last one yesterday."

"No worries." He drops his arm around her shoulders and tugs her toward the bullpen. "There's probably one in the timecapsule where Hetty found that outfit."


	12. 4x24

This one was written after the promo for 4x24 was released, so - it's a little off. But the motorcycle guess was right on! :P

* * *

Kensi watches as Michelle leans up, pressing her lips to Sidorov's. It seems to reassure him, but for Kensi, it has a completely different effect.

"You think she's going to sleep with him now?"

She hears the words coming out of her mouth but they feel foreign and awkward and angry and she was good - she knows she was good. Why can't she just leave it alone?

Beside her, Deeks frowns and lowers his binoculars. "What? Why would she do that?"

"Isn't that what everyone does? You want to convince someone of your allegiance so you screw them, right?" She pushes off the ground where she's crouched and spins on her heels, as if some part of her brain thinks that if she can get far enough away, he won't be able to hear her.

"Kensi," he calls after her, but she doesn't turn around.

"I mean, that's what you did, so that's SOP, yeah?" _God, why can't she stop talking?_

"Kens -"

"I wonder how Sam will take it," she says, dropping angrily onto her bike and reaching for her helmet. She looks up at him as he crosses to her. "Think he'll understand?"

"First of all, stop." He puts his hand on the helmet before she can lift it to her head. "She's not going to sleep with him."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not going to get that far."

"Right, right," her mouth continues, in complete defiance of the commands coming from her brain. "'Cause it's only stolen nukes right? I mean, if it was a handful of jewels, that'd require much more drastic measures."

"I did what I had to do, Kensi, and you know that."

"I know that you did it, and I assume that you enjoyed it. I mean, she's your type right? Perky, flirty, just a little bit crazy."

He shakes his head. "No, that's not - well," he looks at her, an oddly sentimental glimmer in his eyes, "the crazy part is right."

She bites down on her tongue to keep from responding, the anger fading away quickly, the mood shifting like the gentle gusts of wind that whip around them.

"I do have a type, Kens," he says, stepping closer, his legs brushing against her thigh. "But it's very, very specific.

"Brown hair, mismatched eyes," he continues, his hands coming up to cup her face and tilt her eyes up to meet his, "unhealthy addiction to junk food and techno music. Absolutely terrible sense of humor."

Deeks leans forward, slowly, as if pulling against some imaginary force.

"_Okay, guys. Target's on the move_."

Callen's voice echoes in her ears and Deeks stills for a moment, eyes flicking to her lips. Her heart thunders in her chest as he slowly pulls away.

"We're headed out," he answers, eyes still on Kensi's, fingers still warm against her skin.

She tries to say something, but she can't remember how to make a sound.

"You're it for me, Kens," he says, reaching for her helmet and pressing it into her hands. "And when this is all over, I'm going to prove it to you."

Callen's voice resumes barking orders in her ears and Deeks turns away, leaving Kensi to secure her helmet and try to calm her racing pulse.


	13. Baby girl

For anon, who requested: "Densi, just found out the gender of their first child. Its a girl"

* * *

"_No_."

"I didn't even say anything!"

"_I can see it in your eyes_."

Deeks laughs and leans back in his chair. "Over the phone?"

Across from him, Callen raises his eyebrows expectantly. "Well?"

Deeks grins. "A girl."

"Congratulations, you two."

"Callen says congrats," he tells Kensi. "Also, he backs me up on this."

"He does not!" Callen yells so that Kensi can hear.

"He does," Deeks insists.

"_Well, Callen doesn't get a vote. I do. And my vote is no_."

Deeks throws up a hand. "But my vote is yes!"

"My vote is no!" Callen chimes in, earning him a pointed glare.

"Kensi says you don't get a vote."

"_Hold on_," she says in Deeks' ear, "_I'm rethinking_."

He sighs.

"_Okay, I'm at the car_," she says over the sound of keys jingling. "_I'll see you in a minute. Love you_."

"Love you too, babe. And little Martina, too."

"_I said no_."

"Just give it a while. You'll warm up."

"_Not happening_."

"Martina!" he sings, "I created a girl named Martina, and suddenly that name will never be the same again! Mar-"

The line goes dead.

"She never was a big musical fan," he tells Callen. "She'll come around."

Callen shakes his head and goes back to his paperwork,

He's humming West Side Story, though, so Deeks considers it a victory.


	14. Son

For anon, who requested: "Densi, son"

* * *

"Mama?"

Kensi stops in the doorway, hand hovering over the light switch. "What, buddy?"

"Tomorrow can we go to the ice cream shop?"

She looks over her shoulder. "Maybe. Let's see how the day goes."

"Okay," he says with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes.

She wonders if all three year olds are going on sixteen or if it's just hers. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Mama?" he asks again.

"What, buddy?"

"Can I have more water?"

"Nope. Not unless you want to put on a diaper. Do you want to put on a diaper?"

He sighs again. "No."

"Okay, then. Get some sleep." She flips off the light.

"Mama?"

She turns around this time. "What?"

"Where's Little Bear?"

"On your pillow." She points at it. "Where your head should be."

"Fine, fine," he says, but he stays upright. "Mama?"

"Buddy, it's late. You need to get some sleep. You get one more question and then I'm going to go."

He scrunches up his face in what starts as a frown but morphs into some very serious thinking. "Two questions."

She shakes her head. "Nope. One."

"Three."

"That's not how bartering works, and no. Just one."

"Okay, okay," concedes reluctantly.

She folds her arms across her chest and tries to look stern. "What's your question, kiddo?"

"Is," he thinks about it a moment, "is Daddy coming home tomorrow?"

She crosses to his bed and kneels beside it. He looks up at her, eyes big and round as she sweeps the hair from his forehead and presses a kiss against his skin.

"I hope so, little man," she says softly, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. "I hope so."

"Good," he says firmly, words slightly muffled by her shoulder, "'cause Daddy will take me to the ice cream shop."

"You're right." She laughs a watery laugh. "I bet he will."


	15. Son (part 2)

A sequel to the previous chapter. For Bea The Monster, who requested Deeks coming home and Aurora Abbot, who requested something with the whole family.

* * *

Deeks closes the door behind him, careful not to make any sound. As quietly as he can, he slips off his shoes and sets his keys on the table. It's a little after midnight, but it feels like three in the morning. He doesn't actually remember the last time he slept, but he's pretty sure it wasn't in the last 36 hours. Bed sounds so damn good right now.

Bed with Kensi in it sounds even better.

He makes his way to the bedroom, peeling off his jeans and shirt as he goes. His eyes are starting to adjust to the darkness and the neon glow from the bedside clock gives him just enough light to identify the figure in his bed.

Well, _figures_.

Kensi's tucked in on the right side, arms wrapped around a pillow, one foot hanging off the edge. His son is lying on top of the sheets and taking up the entire rest of the bed - impressive considering he's not even three feet tall. Apparently the starfish position is hereditary.

The easiest solution would be to nudge the little man over and wedge himself onto the left side of the bed, but the easiest solution involves zero contact with his wife and that isn't an option he's going to consider.

Instead, he slides his arms under his son's frame and gently lifts him, depositing him carefully on the side of the bed. Deeks maneuvers into the space he cleared in the middle and covers both himself and the little monster with the blankets.

Kensi stirs beside him, abandoning the pillow and rolling over to face her husband.

"You're back," she says, as she nuzzles into his side. "How'd it go?"

He drops a kiss on her forehead. "It was okay. I'll tell you about it tomorrow."

She settles into a comfortable position, arm across Deeks' middle, head on his shoulder, belly pressed into his side. "Missed you."

"Love you," he answers, tightening his hold.

A little arm flings across Deeks' chest, right above Kensi's.

"Daddy," says a groggy voice, "can we go to the ice cream shop?"

"Right now?"

"Um..." His face contorts into a frown, but his eyes don't open. "Maybe tomorrow?"

"That sounds good to me." Deeks squeezes his little hand. "That okay with you, Mama?"

Kensi's response is a soft snort-snore.

"I think that means yes," he tells his son.

The little guy nods. "She wants a double scoop."

Deeks smiles and burrows deeper into the pillow. "That can definitely be arranged."


	16. Officer Deeks

For caskettdensi, who requested: "Officer Marty Deeks arrests an undercover Kensi and she can't break cover"

* * *

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Kensi curses internally. When she gets back to the mission she's going to have a little chat with Parker about his liaising skills.

She raises her hands, letting her finger come up off the trigger, but not releasing the gun. "Really? Did you just walk off a Hollywood set or something?"

"I thought it was slightly more creative than 'Stop or I'll shoot.' Was I wrong?"

"Eh." She shrugs. "Neither are great."

He gestures with the barrel of his gun. "Put it on the ground."

She considers her options only a moment before realizing she only has one. Santiago is on the other side of the street, two uniforms holding their weapons on him. He keeps glancing over at her, eyes flickering between apprehension and anger.

She bends over slowly, making sure to give the officer the best view she can manage, and carefully sets her weapon down.

She stands and he holsters his sidearm, retrieving a set of handcuffs as he steps up behind her.

"Nice ass," he says as he slips a cuff around her wrist.

She brushes her back against his chest as his fingers wrap around her other arm. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She looks over her shoulder and gives him her most seductive smile, face inches from his. His eyes are blue and his teeth are white and, damn, he's a little bit gorgeous.

"But you're not my type." He wrenches the metal around her other wrist, pinching her skin as he clicks it closed. "And you're under arrest."


	17. Officer Deeks pt 2

For everyone who requested a continuation of the previous drabble

* * *

"Well, your story checks out."

The officer steps into the room, keys jingling in his hands and smirk firmly planted on his smug, scruffy, inexplicably attractive face.

Kensi mentally rolls her eyes - at herself, at him, at her shitty, shitty day. "I'm shocked."

"You going to drop the act?"

"Which act is that?"

He waves a finger in her general direction. "The one where you're all feisty."

"Maybe when these handcuffs stop biting into my wrists I'll have more success channeling my charming personality."

He snorts. "Here's hoping."

He comes around behind her, fingertips brushing against her skin as he slips the key into the lock. She tries very hard to suppress a shiver. Stupid body. She needs to get laid, clearly.

And not by him. Nope. Not him.

She pulls her hands in front of her and rubs her fingers around her wrists. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

She pushes out of her chair, already making plans for the evening. She's going to go straight back to the mission, take a long, cold shower, put on her highest heels and hit that new club on Ventura. There will be booze. There will be dancing. There will hopefully be sex.

"Well, Officer, it's been a blast."

"Detective, actually."

She raises her eyebrows. "What's with the uniform?"

He looks a little embarrassed. God, he can be cute too? She's got to get out of here.

"It's temporary."

"Aww. Busted down to traffic for letting a druggy get the jump on you?"

He clears his throat. "I thought you were going to be nicer when I freed you."

"I'm not free yet."

"See," he shakes his head, "I just think you're always like this."

"Well, I guess you'll never know." She gives him a toothy smile before reaching for the door.

"I just might."

Her hand stills on the handle. "Excuse me?"

"We're going to be working together."

She turns around to face him. "We as in, you and me? We?"

"That would be the definition, yes. Are you sure you're a federal agent?"

This time she rolls her eyes for real.

"Apparently," he continues, "this case is going to require some LAPD and NC-whatever-it-is cooperation."

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Detective, but that would be between you and our liaison, Thomas Parker."

He's grinning. A smug sort of thing that makes her imagine the various ways she could wipe it off.

"Yeah, no. It would be between me and one Special Agent Kensi Blye, according to some lady who my lieutenant finds supremely intimidating."

Kensi drops her head. _Shit_. "Hetty."

"That's the one. She must be something to have Bates rolling over." He claps his hands and rubs them together. "So. Pizza or chinese?"

"Jack on the rocks."

He laughs. "Even better."


End file.
